I Am Gryffindor's Daughter
by FarenMaddox
Summary: Another Redemption story, about Maggie Weasley's quest to learn about the hero that was her father Ron and all the places it takes her. There are a lot of family issues but little to no swearing, sex, etc. so a minor rating.
1. Chapter 1: A Powerful Memory

Chapter One

A Powerful Memory

"Madame Gertrude's is hardly an education," Hermione said impatiently, looking at Jonah with an expression that implied he was a lunatic. "It's more like a finishing school!"

"Well, maybe that's what she needs, she spends all day playing with boys. And she's such a tomboy herself, she—"

"There is nothing wrong with that. Besides, then we'd have to hire her a private tutor for things like astronomy and potions, this Gertrude woman doesn't even teach those subjects at her school."

In a much lower tone of voice, Jonah said, "I don't think we could afford both a tutor and a school programme."

"Which is exactly my point, dear. She needs to go to a fully staffed school with qualified teachers for all the appropriate subjects."

"I suppose I'm not to raise the question of whether or not potions and that kind of thing _are_ all that appropriate for a young lady."

Now Hermione's look was absolutely scathing. "Jonah, don't even start that with me. It's one thing for your mother to disapprove of my role in politics, and still another for her to disapprove of my advanced education, but her opinions will _not_ hold my daughter back. She has no say in how Maggie is raised! Maggie will have the best education I can get for her, not simply because she deserves it, but because she _wants_ it. She's an academic, Jonah. She loves to learn. A place like Madame Gertrude's would drive her mad!"

Jonah sighed through his nose, a bitter sound of defeat. "She's just like you, isn't she?" There was no smile on his face, but it was there in his voice.

Hermione's mouth closed firmly, and she tempered her response. "I suppose she is, a little."

Maggie, hiding around the corner in the hall—and peering around the doorjamb to see them—heard what her mother did not say then. The real thing that had come between Hermione and Jonah, between _Maggie_ and Jonah, all the girl's life.

_She's more like her father._

Maggie had been catching these tiny glimpses, like peeking through your lashes when your eyes were supposed to be closed, her entire life. She knew only through herself and what her mother held back what her father must have been like. Oh, she knew _who_ he was, surely enough. She knew his family, from all the holidays and visits they'd made to England. But rarely, so rarely, was Ronald Weasley mentioned by name and spoken of openly. Her mother had told her so little of him, and said she didn't want to hurt Jonah's feeling. Maggie didn't understand. Jonah could hardly be jealous of a dead person, could he?

She'd used to call Jonah her father, when she was small. But she'd realized when she was five or six that he wasn't her real father, and ever since then, she'd heard his name creeping more and more into her speech, until that was all she called him. It wasn't to hurt his feelings. It just felt more natural to call him that. She kept secret that sometimes she spoke to the single photograph she had of her real father. She would sit on her bed in the dark, when she was supposed to be sleeping, and talk to her Papa. She liked to think he would have done this with her, if she'd wanted him to, if he were still alive. That he would sit by her bed when she was tucked in for the night, and let her tell him all about her day.

"Maybe we should ask Maggie what she would like to do," Hermione suggested. "She ought to have a say in this."

"She's not even quite eleven years old. She might choose something now for reasons she'll regret when she's only a year or two older."

"Don't you see, Jonah? That's how she'll learn, it's how we all learned. About life, and everything. She has to start making her own decisions and finding out the consequences of them."

"And if her choices lead her somewhere dangerous?"

"Then she'll find out that her mother will always, always be there to save her," Hermione said in a deep, passionate voice. "Always."

"Hermione . . . you of all people know you can't make that guarantee."

"I won't let Maggie become timid, Jonah. I won't let that happen. She's a brave girl, and I want her to take risks in her life."

And there he was again, her Papa, hanging painfully between her mother and stepfather. Her brave, risk-taking father who'd died at the age of eighteen because he loved his best friend so fiercely. Her mother said she would always be there to save Maggie, but Maggie knew better. Still, Hermione was right. She could let fear stop her. Not ever. And Maggie knew what she would say when her mother asked her.

"And what about risks in your life, Hermione?" Jonah asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Albert told me you'd been in talks with U.S. wizards about working for them."

"It's only talking, Jonah."

"For now. What later?"

"I don't know yet."

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione, did you think I wasn't going to find out?"

"Of course not, it wasn't like that! I just . . . I wanted to wait and bring it up once we'd gotten Maggie's schooling settled."

"I see."

"I do want to talk about it. Just one thing at a time."

"I'm not leaving Canada, and we're not going to make our son move right after he loses his big sister, do you hear me?"  
"Please, Jonah! Later."

"Fine. I understand."

Hermione made a disgusted noise. "I'm going to go talk to Maggie."

Maggie had nowhere to hide herself, and she knew she looked like a pixy caught at wandpoint when her mother found her in the hall. She held her breath. Her mother just took her by the arm and led her silently toward her room, with a wink to Maggie to assure her. When they got into her room and closed the door, Maggie was shocked to see tears in her mother's eyes.

"Mama?"

"God, you are so like him," she whispered.

Maggie didn't know what to say to that. It made her proud, and sad, and confused. She didn't know anything about him, except that he was a hero. Was it good to be like him? Was her mother happy or sad?

"Every time I look at you, you look a little more like your dad's family. Every time I turn around, you're saying something or doing something that's exactly how he would have done."

"That's why I have to go, Mama. To Hogwarts."

Hermione's hand stroked through Maggie's riotous, frizzy red curls, the ones she hated so. "Are you sure, baby? It's so far away."

"It's the only place that seems right, though. You and he both went there, and Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, and even Grandma and Grandpa Weasley. I want to go where you all were. You're all so smart and special, Mama. I want to be like you. I want to go to school at Hogwarts."

"Okay," Hermione said with a watery smile. "If that's what you really want, then that's what we'll do."

Maggie relaxed in the sudden, tight embrace her mother gave her. It was far away, it was maybe a little dangerous . . . and it was the only thing she wanted in the world.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Do you really have to go, Maggie?" he asked softly, laying his head on her shoulder.

She pushed him. "You're too old to sleep in my bed, J.J."

He made a face. "Then I'm too old for you to call me J.J."

She sighed and let him settle back down. Her brother was only eight, she supposed it was normal for him to want to come for her room if he had a nightmare. He didn't want to bother Mama and Jonah.

Sleepy and yawning, she patted his dark hair to comfort him. They didn't look much alike, for a brother and sister. He looked like his father, and she like hers. She was miles taller than he was, and too thin, and covered in freckles, and he was just small and square and dark like Jonah was. Maggie wondered what her mother had even liked about Jonah if she had been in love with a tall redhead before.

"I don't want you to go so far away."

"I have to, J.J. I have to go see all those places my father used to live."

"Do you miss him, Maggie?" he murmured drowsily.

"How can I? I never knew him."

"But you miss having a dad, don't you? I mean, a real dad, like me."

Maggie didn't say anything.

"Maggie, are you asleep?"

"No, because you won't shut up."

"I'm sorry," he said in a tiny voice. "I'll be quiet."

Her eyes closed but her brain too much of a mess to sleep, Maggie said, "No, it's okay. I'm not sleepy."

It was a lie, but not entirely. Sleepy and weary and emotionally wrung out, but unable to make that last surrender to dreams. And she loved her brother very much. She would miss him terribly, just as she would miss her mother and Jonah and her friends Beth and Donna. But Jean-Luc was right. She did miss having a dad. And if Hogwarts was the closest she could come to him, then to Howarts she must go.

"It's not just him, though," she murmured, her words the slightest bit slurred. "I think Hogwarts will be very cool. It's such a beautiful castle, and there's so much history there. Think of how much I could learn just from the ghosts. The professors are supposed to be excellent as well, so I should learn a lot from them—"

"Maggie," Jean-Luc moaned.

"Hmmm?"

"Shhhh."

Maggie grinned, and pulled his head against her shoulder, and finally let herself go to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Oh, good, there's Jean-Luc."

"Uhhh," Maggie replied, trying to open her eyes.

Jean-Luc snorted in his sleep as Hermione lifted him up out of Maggie's bed.

"Come on, little one, let your poor sister get some rest."

"Mama?" he muttered.

"That's right, it's just me."

Maggie was awake again, now. She cracked her eyes and looked at her window. The edges around the closed curtain were tinged with blue, so it must be nearly dawn.

"Mama, what is it?"

"Sorry, baby. I went to check on your brother and he wasn't in his bed, so I got worried. I'm just going to tuck him back in."

"Okay," she whispered, turning her face back to the pillow.

"Mama, why is Maggie leaving?" Jean-Luc asked, and Maggie raised her head again.

"She's not leaving yet, of course. The term doesn't start for several months, still."

"I know, but then we'll hardly ever see her. It's not fair."

"It doesn't have anything to do with fair, you know that," Hermione said, sitting down on the edge of Maggie's bed, and holding Jean-Luc close. "Maggie has to go to school somewhere, and Hogwarts is the best school, that's all."

"I guess. It'll be cool to go to school with cousin Matt and have Uncle Remus for a teacher, won't it, Maggie?"

Maggie smiled at him, even though she was exhausted and irritated at being woken, and her hair was a rat's nest around her face. "Yeah, J.J. It'll be really cool."

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"Nothing's decided yet, Jonah, you know that!"

"What I know is that you care more about your career than your family!"

"That is not fair and not true, Jonah Simpson! There is no reason that you can't transfer to another hospital, and Jean-Luc has already said he would be excited about a new school, especially since Maggie is going to a new school herself! You are doing this just to test me. Why?"

"I'm not testing you. We're happy here. Why would you change all that, just for a bunch of kids you don't know?"

"Kids I don't know? Jonah, doesn't what's been happening to those children break your heart as much as it does mine? They're crying out for help, and I have a thousand ideas about how to help them. If I'm the only one who can do it, then I will be the one to do so! You're always trying to hold me back, for some ridiculous notion your mother put into your head about proper behaviour!"

"Well, can you blame me for wanting to keep you a little closer to me? You would fly to the moon if you had no ties, and the tie between us has gotten mighty thin lately. My mother is right, in some ways. You don't seem to have any common sense about your reputation, just waltzing around in a world full of old men who will think—"

"Look, Jonah, my life may not have turned out exactly how I planned it, but I'll be damned if I allow my career to be taken away from me, too!"

"What, like _he _was? Is that what this is about?"

"You brought him up, not me. But he never tried to hold me back."

Maggie, frozen in the hallway and horribly sick to her stomach, felt Jean-Luc walking slowly up behind her.

"What are they fighting about?" he whispered in a subdued tone.

"I don't know," she lied. Then she let go the handle on her trunk and let it thump loudly on the hallway floor. "Mama, Jonah, I'm ready!"

They both appeared in the doorway, and looked out at her and Jean-Luc with startled smiles.

"Good," Hermone said. "Your Uncle Harry will be here to pick you up any minute."

Maggie turned and gave Jean-Luc a tight hug. "You'll be okay, won't you, J.J.? You'll be good for Mama and Jonah, won't you?"

Jean-Luc stepped back with a scornful look. "Of course I will. You're the one who has to behave and make everybody proud."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Now you sound like Mama."

Jean-Luc grinned, and jumped back into her embrace. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. Be good."

"You be good."

Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, "They always fight. Don't let it upset you."

"I'm scared," he whispered back. "I'm really scared, Maggie. I don't think they like each other anymore."

"Don't worry, it'll work out," she whispered, then said in a normal voice, "Take care of them for me, okay?"

Jean-Luc didn't answer, and then Uncle Harry was calling out his greetings as he stepped out of the fireplace.


	2. Chapter 2: A Family Tradition

Chapter Two

A Family Tradition

"Cousin Maggie!"

Before she could even dust the bits of ash from her shoulders, Maggie was nearly attacked by Charlotte Weasley. A sturdy five-year-old built with the same compact strength as her parents, Charley knocked Maggie straight back into the fireplace. Uncle Harry was just coming through, and with his trademark quick reflexes, he caught Maggie and righted her and brushed her off when he'd barely even materialized.

"Daddy!" Charley squealed with the same enthusiasm, and jumped up into his arms. He caught her easily and swung her up so she could wrap her legs around him and cling like a barnacle.

"There's my girl," he said warmly. "Goodness, I've only been gone a day."

"I missed you," she replied, confident and content now that he was here.

Uncle Harry leaned his forehead against his daughter's and rested there a moment, the dark unruly hair spilling into the equally messy bright red. Maggie felt a deep pang in her heart. She'd never have such a reunion with her father, even now that she had come to find out what she could about him. You couldn't leap into the arms of a memory.

Charley clambered down and started asking Maggie a million questions about Canada, about her trip, about her family, and everything else under the sun.

"Do you think I could fly for England someday, if I work really hard? Mummy says—"

"Charley! Give her a moment to breathe," Uncle Harry chuckled.

"Did I hear my name?" asked a deep male voice as someone appeared in the doorway.

"Charlie!" Harry cried, walking forward to embrace his brother-in-law warmly. "When did you get here?"

"I knew Maggie was coming today, so I came down to help you see her off to school," Uncle Charlie answered, winking at Maggie. "Hi, there, love. How was your trip?"

"I don't know yet," she said faintly, her head spinning. She didn't like Flooing, and she hadn't even gotten all the ash off her clothes yet.

Uncle Charlie laughed, and caught her up in a hug. "Come on. Your Aunt Ginny has got some tea and biscuits in the kitchen, you can relax for a few minutes in there."

"Can I sit down first?" she sighed, returning the hug with affection. She liked Uncle Charlie.

Instead, Uncle Charlie picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. She squealed.

"Uncle Charlie, put me down!"

She kicked and squirmed and only got tickled in the side for her struggles. By the time they got to the kitchen, they were both laughing and red-faced and out of breath. Uncle Charlie dumped her in a chair, and his energetic namesake rushed in and started bouncing around him, shouting,

"Me, too, me, too, Uncle Charlie!"

He rolled his eyes and gave her a brief ride around the kitchen, tickling her and making her shout. He dumped her in a chair, too, then turned to his sister where she stood at the stove, waiting for the kettle to boil and laughing at his antics.

"Sit down, sis. I'll get this."

"No, it's nearly ready," she protested, waving a tea towel at him. He caught the towel and used it to jerk her forward before she could think to let go. With a cry of surprise, she was yanked into his arms, and he picked her up by the waist and threw her over his shoulder just like he'd done to the girls. His wide shoulders were plenty strong enough for his sister, and he deposited her at the table with no seeming effort. She made a face at her laughing daughter and niece, and Charlie grabbed the tea kettle just as it began to whistle.

"Here we . . . are," he finished with a stutter, staring at the three sitting at the table. "Merlin's beard."

"What?" Ginny asked with trepidation.

Harry, who'd corralled his sons and brought them in for tea, stopped in the doorway and blocked the boys from entering. "Oh," he said with surprise.

"What?" she asked again, sounding annoyed now.

Maggie looked at her Aunt Ginny and cousin Charley and thought she knew what they were looking at. The hair, the skin, the frame of the body . . . all three of them were so obviously Weasleys.

Uncle Harry walked over to Maggie and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "You look more like him all the time," he said in a hoarse whisper, and then he sat down next to his wife and gave her a rough embrace.

"What are you all talking about?" Matt asked in a lazy voice as he strolled in and plunked down next to Maggie. "Hello, Maggie."

"Hello, Matt. It's nothing."

Then Sirius bounded in, brandishing a toy wand and shouting complex and completely imaginary spells. He pointed his wand at Maggie and said firmly, "Verditus Toadalamus. You're a big green toad now, Maggie."

"Are you sure that's a real spell, Crash?" she asked primly.

Uncle Harry burst out laughing. Everyone stared at him.

"Here we are all thinking what a Weasley she is, but she's her mother all over again," he explained, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and trying to stop laughing. "She said just the same thing the first time we all met. Ron was trying to turn his rat Scabbers yellow, and Hermione said it just like that."

Maggie could feel her face turning red as they all laughed about it. She supposed she was like Mama, a bit. But for heaven's sake, did they all have to keep talking about her?

"I'm ready for tea now," she said in the same prim tone, and touched off a brief flurry of activity as Uncle Harry jumped up for the biscuits and told Aunt Ginny she'd earned a minute's rest while Uncle Charlie started pouring the tea.

Matt nudged her in the ribs. "Don't worry about it," he said softly. Maggie smiled at him gratefully. She liked Matt the best of all her cousins, even her French cousins. He was so soft-spoken and kind, but he was really tough when he had to be. She'd heard all about his kidnapping and how he'd fought with that Nightmare Curser. He was quite a bit older than she, he was going to be a fifth-year this term, but she felt like she could talk to him about anything if she wanted to.

"Well, Maggie, it's nice to have you here," Aunt Ginny said when everyone was served and comfortably munching and sipping. "I hope you get a good night's sleep tonight, because you'll have a big day tomorrow."

Maggie couldn't help but grin. "I know. The shopping centre in Toronto is ever so much bigger, Mama says, but Diagon Alley is still the most splendid place. I can't wait."

"It's quite a tradition, you know," Aunt Ginny said, smiling back at her. "That's why your grandparents want to come along and spend the day with us."

"Really?" she asked, feeling like her face would split from smiling. "Good, I've missed seeing Grandma and Grandpa Weasley."

"We'll do all your school shopping and have lunch all together. I'm sure we'll see some of your new schoolmates there, too. I expect we'll run into the Malfoys?" Ginny said, looking at Matt.

Matt nodded, his mouth full of biscuit. Swallowing thickly, he said, "Ran and I both need new gloves for Quidditch, so we're going to meet up to look at them. Is that all right?"

Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny smiled at each other.

"What?" Matt asked, mystified.

"You're pretty sure you'll be on the team this year, aren't you?"

Matt grinned. "They've been trying to get me to join since my first year, haven't they? Besides, Ran's team captain now."

Aunt Ginny gave Uncle Harry a sly glance. "I heard it's not good for a captain to just let his friends onto the team."

"What?" Uncle Harry asked in an injured tone.

"Nothing," she replied.

"Whatever, Matt is a great flyer, I'm sure he'll be a good addition to the team."

"Anyone will be a better Seeker than Dane Sheffield," Matt grumbled. "His own brother says so when he commentates the matches."

Maggie turned so she was facing Matt more directly. "You're playing Seeker, then? Who else is on the team? Are they good in their positions, or will things have to be reorganized this year? Do you know if anyone else is trying out besides you?"

* * *

Maggie tried not to be a bothersome little girl even though she was following Matt to Quality Quidditch Supplies to look at the brooms while he met his friend to buy gloves. Mama had promised her that she might have a broom, if she would pick one she liked that was not too expensive and send word to her. Jonah hadn't been happy, he didn't think girls should have their own brooms, and he'd tried to argue that since Mama hadn't ever used one, neither should Maggie. Then Mama had said something so hurtful that Maggie had been shocked. She was certain it was the closest Mama had ever come to flat-out telling Jonah she had loved Ron more than him.

The words were still there, floating around in Maggie's brain. "_When I agreed to marry you, I never said I would allow you to take away half of what Maggie is. She is a Weasley, not a Simpson, whether you like it or not. She takes after her aunt and she very much takes after her father, and I couldn't be happier about that. If she chooses to fly or even play Quidditch, you _will_ not stop her._"

It had answered the question Maggie had, of whether or not it was good for her to be like her fther, but t the same time, she wished her mother had not said that. Jonah had been so quiet after that, not angry or upset, but only quiet. Maggie felt like she was driving them apart, just by being there. She felt like things would be better if she wasn't there, so it was good she had come to England. She couldn't help but wonder if their family might be better off if she didn't come back.

"Over here, Matt," a voice called, breaking Maggie's dark thoughts apart. She looked up—and up. Ran Edwards, at sixteen, was nearly six and a half feet tall, which she'd been assured was only because his grandfather was very tall and not because his werewolf blood had got the better of him. Still, he was huge and imposing, physically. Maggie was slightly awed.

"Hey, Ran. You remember Maggie, right?"

"Yeah, your cousin, isn't she?"

"Yes, Hermione's daughter. Maggie, you know Ran."

"Yes. Hello."

"Hello." He gave Matt a questioning look, but Maggie saved her cousin the explanation.

"I'm here to pick out a broom. Mama said she would buy me one this year, but she's going to let me choose and write to her about which one."

Ran's eyes lit up. "Do you know what kind you like yet?"

"No," Maggie admitted. "There's a broom maker on Prince Edward Island who makes really fantastic brooms, but I thought that since I was going to be living here most of the time, I ought to pick a broom by an English craftsman."

Ran grinned. "Come on, I can show you which brooms are good for which sort of flying. Do you play Quidditch?"

Maggie shared a smile with Matt, and they followed the tall boy into the shop. She liked Ran.

They looked at brooms for an hour while Ran and Matt vied for Maggie's ear to explain all the good points of certain brooms, depending on which position she played in Quidditch, assuming that she did, in fact, try out and make the team some time. They assured her that as a first year, she wasn't likely to make it onto the team this time out, but she really should try out next year when their best Chaser had graduated. Matt finally reminded Ran that they'd better pick up their gloves before they were late to join the family for lunch, and Maggie decided she'd better come back at the end of the afternoon when she'd had time to think about it.

"Very wise," Ran said solemnly as he held the door for her, and winked.

Maggie's stomach was so tight with excitement and good humour that she couldn't really eat when they all sat down for lunch at the café on the north end of Diagon Alley. They had claimed the entire outdoor seating area, but apparently Grandpa Weasley had anticipated this and made a reservation for them. There was her grandparents, and her Uncle Charlie, then Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny and her three cousins, and then there was Draco and Vianne Malfoy with their son Scorpius, who was only a baby, and Ran, who took up all the room his little brother wasn't using. Then two men called Mr. Jordan and Mr. Thomas showed up and said they'd closed the shop for a quick lunch, so they were joining everyone, too.

"How's business?" Uncle Harry was asking Mr. Thomas, who shrugged and smiled.

"Good and steady, like always."

"What I wouldn't give to have the twins around to give us some fresh ideas!" Mr. Jordan declared. "Dean and I have exhausted our limited imaginations."

Uncle Harry laughed. "That's one thing you could never accuse Fred and George of."

"You remember the fireworks our fifth year, when they dropped out?" Mr. Thomas asked Uncle Harry wistfully.

Aunt Ginny laughed. "Do you think anyone could forget what they did to that despicable Umbridge woman?"

"They certainly showed her a thing or two about her authority at the school," Uncle Harry agreed.

Mr. Jordan had stopped talking and started pushing his meal around with his fork. Mr. Thomas nudged him with an elbow and gave him an encouraging smile.

"Still," the man prompted, "business has been good."

"So long as we keep their original range of products stocked and come out with something new every Christmas," Mr. Jordan said agreeably. He glanced over at Maggie, who was watching the conversation with true interest. Finding out about her uncles was nearly as good as finding out about her father. Judging by the little she did know, they sounded like extremely interesting men. "Well, Maggie, I hope you're not too bored by the old folks reminiscing."

"You're hardly that," Grandma Weasley said dryly, patting his arm, just as Maggie protested,

"Not at all, Mr. Jordan! It's very fascinating!"

He made a face. "Molly's right, I'm not old folks yet. Call me Lee, love."

She smiled, not knowing that her smile made Lee's heart ache. "Okay." It lit up her face, that smile, animating it with the life and joy he so missed in his old friends.

"Well, here we are shopping for school supplies . . . again," said Grandpa Weasley. "What do you think of our little family tradition, Maggie?"

She grinned.

* * *

"Wait," Maggie puffed, trying to catch enough breath to be heard. She'd spent her last night at her grandparents' house, learning how to play chess from Uncle Charlie, and they'd gone to bed quite late. Maggie was _not_ a morning person. "Wait!"

"Hurry now, dear," her grandmother chided, tugging on her hand. "We can't miss the train." Grandpa was carrying her trunk for her to make things quicker. They said they'd take her through the barrier and see her onto the train safely.

"I'm hardly awake yet," she grumbled, nearly stumbling as Grandma pulled her recalcitrant body along.

"Here we go!" Uncle Charlie said suddenly, and then Maggie was swinging through the air with a shriek of surprise, then she was sitting in her uncle's arms and he was carrying her along. "Really, Mother, we're practically sprinting, of course she can't keep up!" he scolded, jogging along easily. He looked down at his surprised niece and winked. "I guess we forgot to tell you that running late is part of that family tradition we were talking about!"


	3. Chapter 3: A Predictable Sort

Chapter Three

A Predictable Sort

"Say goodbye to Daddy, now, he's going to be staying at the school a whole week to get everything settled down."

Scorpius Malfoy obediently let his father kiss his cheek, then blew him a raspberry in return. Vianne and Draco laughed while Ran took Scorpius from Vianne's arms and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

"I won't see you until Christmas, little brother," he said with a soft smile. "Be good, and try to find the rest of your teeth."

They all smiled at each other and took their leave with wistful looks and lots of hugs and kisses.

"Matt, did you forget anything?" Ginny called out as the youth put one foot on the train.

"No, Mum."

"You did, too!" Charley shouted. "You forgot to kiss me goodbye!"

Matt made faces of mocking horror and sorrow as he came back to bend down and kiss his little sister. He rose up and gave his mother one last hug, and turned to his father.

"I'll see you next month when you come to lecture in Uncle Remy's class."

"Sooner," Harry said, embracing him. "Miss Dewberry asked me to help her corral the first years next week, since Draco will be busy getting his own students sorted out."

Matt gave him a hard thump on the back and said "See you then!" very gaily, and leaped onto the train to go seek out his friends.

Maggie blinked rapidly as she walked past all this, trying not to feel sorry for herself and failing miserably. Her mother and brother were far away, she'd parted with her stepfather on bad terms, and her Papa would never be seeing her off like that. She stepped onto the train dejectedly—and was jerked back off. Her feet never touched the ground as Uncle Charlie deposited her into Grandma's arms.

"Don't think you'll get away without a kiss goodbye," she scolded, her gray hair escaping in frizzy curls under her hat.

"Really, what were you thinking?" Grandpa—who had no hair at all under his hat—added with a smile. He scooped her up and squeezed her hard and pressed his dry lips to her cheek. "It's been nice to see you, Maggie love. Good luck at school."

Uncle Charlie gave her a surprisingly gentle hug. "I know you'll do well," he smiled. "You've got your mother's brains and your dad's stubborn streak. Just remember: the ghosts are mostly decent fellows, but stay the hell away from Peeves." He ruffled her hair and released her. "Go on, get out of here before they leave without you," he said affectionately.

Heart bursting with gratitude for the man who'd tried to show her all the love she'd missed getting from his little brother, she gave him one more hug before she hurried onto the train. She turned around and waved as they pulled out of the station. Vianne stood with Harry and Ginny, and they moved closer to the Weasley family as they all waved to the family they were seeing off.

"Good luck, Maggie!"

"See you next week, _mon amour_!"

"Don't eat the tapioca, whatever you do!"

"I love you, baby!"

"Matt, you did forget! You didn't pack any socks!"

"We'll miss you!"

Finally Maggie couldn't see them anymore, and she turned away from the window to look for a compartment to sit in. She thought it was pretty obvious which students were first years. They were all alone, not chatting with old friends, and they were milling around in confusion, looking inside each compartment and moving at snail's pace down the car. Maggie huffed impatiently, ready to sit down and look over her new books and get prepared for the term. She swept past all of them and moved down toward the end, where she hoped it would be quiet. She saw Ran and Matt enter a compartment with a tanned, toned, blond girl and a thin boy with curly hair and freckles. A stocky, dark-haired boy wearing glasses pushed past her and hurried into that compartment, turning his head over his shoulder to shout an apology.

She finally flopped down into an empty compartment with a huff of relief at being out of the mess and noise. She opened her book bag and took out her _Standard Book of Spells_ for a refresher. She thought she could do several of these already, but most of them were only things she'd read about and never tried. She'd only gotten her first wand yesterday, after all. According to the creepy old man she'd got it from, her father's wand had been nearly identical, and she took it out to look at it again. She was nearly glowing with pride over this wand, over it being _nearly identical_ to Papa's. She brandished it and prepared to try out a new spell, and the words caught in her throat and came out as a very unbecoming squawk.

"I didn't even see you there!" she gasped.

The boy's huge, protruding eyes blinked slowly, solemnly. His deep brown hair fell over his forehead and nearly into those buggy eyes, in desperate need of a trim. He had his feet pulled up into the seat and his knobby knees poked out at Maggie awkwardly.

"That's okay, I was being very quiet," he said, sounding charitable. He had folded himself up into the corner of the compartment and he was, indeed, very quiet. His voice was soft and slightly husky. His lips were large and very pink, and his dark eyes nearly popped out of his bony cheeks. It was hard to tell when he was curled up like that, but he seemed to be very thin and bony everywhere.

"I don't want to disturb you," Maggie said uncomfortably, finding him distinctly odd, and started to return her attention to the spell book.

"Oh, you're not disturbing me," the boy answered, and smiled with his lips tightly closed. "I wondered who else might sit in here."

"Why do you smile with your mouth closed like that?" she asked wonderingly.

"I hate my teeth," he mumbled.

"Are they crooked? Let me see."

He sighed, and bared his teeth. Maggie frowned.

"There's nothing wrong with them."

"They're so _white_. It looks abnormal."

_You're the one who's abnormal_, Maggie thought. "My mother's parents, my grandparents, they are both dentists, and they would think your teeth were just right. They're entirely perfect."

He sighed again, seeming sad. "Who wants to be entirely perfect? It's strange."

Maggie couldn't help but laugh at this odd little boy. "I'm Maggie," she said, trying to make up for laughing.

"Aidan. Ross."

She looked down at the hand she was extending and back up at him, raising her eyebrows. His arms remained firmly locked around his legs.

"Don't you shake hands?"

"I never have before," he said, slowly reaching out and grasping her hand with a tentative grip. "Is this okay?"

Maggie smiled to put him at ease. "Of course. We're only introducing ourselves."

They released hands and sat back, and he returned the smile. "I've never introduced myself very much before. I had a tutor and I didn't go to school. I don't know any kids like me, only my parents and my Aunt Vesta and Mr. Leigh."

"Well, now you know one," Maggie said. Inexplicably, she liked this odd boy. "Have you looked at any of the books yet?" she asked, holding up the spell book she had started to study.

He nodded a little, and took from the corner a book of his own, holding it up to show the title: _Hogwarts, A History_. "My mother told me I ought to read this."

Maggie grinned and pulled her very battered copy out of her bag. "So did mine."

"I thought it was interesting, but I haven't read much yet."

The compartment door opened, and two girls pushed their way in, giggling and chattering about something, and then they were followed in by another boy.

"Oh, hello," the blond girl said, looking back and forth between the two already inhabiting the compartment.

"Hello," Maggie answered for the both of them, as Aidan was retreating back into the corner with his feet tucked up to watch the proceedings with his round eyes. "You can sit down."

The blond girl did sit, and the brunette fell into the seat beside her, still giggling about something. "I'm Chloe," she said with confidence, "and that's Kaye who can't stop laughing, and that's—"

"I'm Frank," the good-looking blond-haired boy said. His hair, too, was in need of a trim and fell over his brow, but it looked casual and appealing on him, not shaggy.

"I'm Maggie, and that's Aidan," she replied, waving her hand toward the folded-up boy.

The blond boy gave Aidan a startled second glance, and sat down very gingerly, as though he were ready to jump up again any moment. Maggie sighed impatiently. Aidan didn't look a bit frightening, only odd.

"Well, anyway, nice to meet you," Frank said, and immediately reached into the bag on his shoulder and pulled out a small, dog-eared book that appeared to be about Transfiguration theory.

Chloe and Kaye glanced around the compartment, looked at each other, and said simultaneously, "Books!" in a scornful voice. Then they fell to laughing again. Maggie rolled her eyes, and caught Frank doing the same. Aidan had his book open on the seat beside him, but he was still looking around curiously. He probably had no idea how much a couple of silly girls could giggle.

"_They'll_ never be in Ravenclaw," Frank muttered.

"Will you be?" Maggie asked with interest.

He gave her an easygoing smile. "Likely."

She smiled back. "Me, too. At least, my family all says so. And they all went to Hogwarts, they should know."

He cocked his head, making his hair spill over his forehead at an attractive angle. "Who's your family?"

She lowered her head a little. She didn't think this was such a good line of questioning. "The Weasleys. I'm Maggie Weasley."

His eyes went wide. "You're not Hermione Granger's daughter?"

"Granger-Simpson," she corrected him, and nervously stroked her hand over the open book in her lap. "Yes."

"I've heard of you," Frank said with interest. Then he grimaced. "Sorry. You probably get that a lot."

"Not in Canada," she smiled, hoping to put him at ease.

"Oh, right," he said.

"Well, if you're not going to read, put your books away and let's play a game," Kaye interrupted importantly. "I don't want to be bored stiff the whole train ride!"

"A game?" Maggie asked. "What kind?"

Kaye shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't feel like reading."

Chloe pushed Kaye's shoulder playfully. "Silly Gryffindor."

"Do you think so?" Kaye asked, preening a bit.

"Of course. Me, too."

Kaye nodded, and they grinned at each other with excitement.

"I'm going to be in Gryffindor, too."

They all turned to buggy-eyed Aidan Ross with startled looks. "What?"

"I want to be in Gryffindor House. Do you think I can?"

Chloe and Kaye started giggling again.

* * *

"Oh, oh, oh," Maggie gasped.

Well, obviously they were going to call her name, she was the last person up here. But still, when Headmistress Thumbley said, "Weasley, Margaret," her stomach did backflips and she nearly froze in place.

Frank, whose last name was Anders and so had been the first sorted, had just welcomed Sara Waters to her seat at the Ravenclaw table. Chloe Stone and Kaye Parker were sitting at the Gryffindor table and chattering away again, ignoring Aidan Ross who was sitting beside them and staring up at Maggie. All the students were now sorted, but for her. And it seemed by the looks on everyone's faces that they knew who she was now. She looked toward Frank to calm herself down as she took her seat on the stool. Frank winked at her.

"_Oh!_" said the Sorting Hat into her ear. "_I thought I was finished Sorting the Weasleys! Well, I know where to put you!_"

"But I'm supposed to be a Ravenclaw," she broke in with a desperate whisper. "I'm so serious and bookish all the time, I have to be!"

"_But we both know what you want, don't we?_" asked the Hat.

Maggie blew out a deep breath, and felt something heavy sitting on her shoulders. "Yes, I suppose so."

"_Shall I Sort you as I see fit, or not?_"

"Yes, please," Maggie whispered. "Whatever you think is best."

"_Gryffindor_!" the Hat shouted for everyone to hear.

Chloe and Kaye stopped whispering to each other to turn and clap for her as she bounded for the Gryffindor table in a startled haze. Somehow, she could feel the weight on her shoulders lifting, even though a look over at Frank showed him to be as surprised as she was. Chloe and Kaye waved her over, but she slid onto the bench next to Aidan.

"Looks like we both got our wish, then," she said.

He smiled, and very hesitantly patted his hand on her shoulder. "Congratulations." He placed his hand back in his lap and gave her an anxious look. "Did I do that properly?"

Maggie laughed and put her arm around him to give him a little squeeze. "Of course!"

After Headmistress Thumbley made her opening speech and welcomed the new students, they finally got some food. Maggie tucked in with relish. Mama never had time to cook at home, and she was quite excited about getting specially prepared meals every day.

She noticed Aidan picking at a small portion of food and frowned.

"No wonder you're so thin!" she scolded him. "You hardly eat anything!"

He shrugged. "I'm not hungry. But it's okay, you're eating my part, too."

"Oh!" she gasped, and smacked his shoulder playfully.

He stared up at her sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, Maggie. I didn't mean to say anything bad."

"You didn't, I was just teasing," she assured him.

Seeming relieved, he did eat a little. While they were enjoying the feast, Matt came over to congratulate her and introduce her to his friends Bear and Ferris. Maggie saw Ran sitting further down the table talking to two boys who looked like brothers and whom Matt identified as Quinn and Dane. The older students returned to their seats after welcoming her into the House, and Maggie felt warm inside. It would be really nice to share a house with people like that.

"I didn't know you knew some of the teenagers!" spoke up another girl with awe. She'd just been sorted to Gryffindor, too. Deborah, Maggie recalled, sitting next to a boy called Fergus.

"Matt's my cousin," she explained, but just then, Ran stood up from the table and called out that he was going to lead them to Gryffindor Tower and show them everything along the way.

Maggie called out to him. "You didn't tell me you were prefect as well as Quidditch captain!"

Ran just grinned and winked at her. "Glad to have you in Gryffindor, Maggie," he replied, then went back to shouting.

Now the girls were _really_ staring at her.


	4. Chapter 4: First Years' First Week

Chapter Four

First Years' First Week

Maggie rushed into the classroom and threw her arms around the professor, who returned the hug with startled hesitation.

"Uncle Remus!" she said happily, her face in his chest. "It's so good to see you!"

"You, too, Maggie," he said warmly, setting her back and taking a look at her. "My goodness, you just keep growing."

Maggie smiled shyly, knowing she was too tall for her age. But she'd missed the Lupins so much since they'd moved home to England a few years ago. She couldn't wait until she got a chance to see Tonks, who'd been awfully busy with a raid of some kind and its aftermath when Maggie had arrived here.

"Go ahead and take your seat so I can get class started," he said softly. "We can talk at supper tonight, all right?"

"Yes, sir, Professor Lupin," she answered with a cheeky grin, and hurried to her seat. Deborah had turned out to be her favourite first-year Gryffindor girl, and Maggie sat between her and Aidan happily. This should be a very interesting class, she was with people she liked, and a man she considered family was teaching it. There was nothing that could go wrong with this day.

At least, she didn't think so. But that was before she got to Potions class, which they shared with the new Ravenclaw students. Deborah and Aidan were with her again, and she was explaining what she knew of the work the Lupins had done with her mother in Canada, when in walked Frank Anders, his blond hair casual and a girl on either side. Maggie waved at him gaily, but his return greeting was more half-hearted. Maggie was confused by that, after how friendly they'd been on the train.

"I think he's upset that we got you," Deborah whispered to her.

"What?" Maggie asked, her eyebrows drawing down.

"He wanted you to be in Ravenclaw, I'm sure of it. Chloe told me that you two were talking on the train."

"So?"

Deborah rolled her eyes. "He _likes_ you."

"Oh." Maggie glanced at Frank again in surprise, and saw him looking back. Her cheeks coloured. "Really?"

Frank seemed encouraged by that, and got up from his seat to come over and greet all of them together.

"Hello, Aidan, Maggie, and hi there . . ."

"Deborah."

"Deborah. How do you all like Hogwarts so far?"

"It's brilliant," Maggie blurted out. "The classes are going to be so interesting, and all the professors are amazing. I'm excited about this class, very much. I've heard that Professor Malfoy is a very good teacher."

Frank's smile was very puzzled, and someone a few seats down made a strange snorting noise.

"What?" Maggie asked, mystified.

"You're excited? To be in Professor _Malfoy's_ class?"

"Well, I heard that he was really good, so I . . . what is it?" she asked with dread, seeing his confused look.

"Don't you know about his family?"

"I heard something about how they were Death Eaters, but I forget. I don't like to ask, since Mama doesn't want to talk about that."

"Don't you know how your father died?"

Maggie could feel the blush in her cheeks fading away as she started to realize what Frank was getting at. "He was battling some Death Eaters."

"He was battling Professor Malfoy's father. His father is the one who killed yours."

Maggie faced the front of the room where her teacher was turned toward the blackboard to write something down. She knew the colour had gone from her face because her cheeks felt cold. Her hands were sort of numb, and there was a queasy feeling in her stomach. Professor Malfoy seemed to feel the eyes on him. He turned with a ready smile on his lips, and some of the students made surprised noises at his heavily scarred face. His one good eye locked onto Maggie and her stony expression, and his smile quickly disappeared. His already pale skin went even paler, and he returned his attention to the blackboard.

Maggie tried to marshal her thoughts, and Frank tactfully returned to his seat, looking aghast at what he'd done. Aidan was staring at her with his borderline-creepy eyes, but not saying anything. Deborah had buried her head in her textbook, and several other students were staring at her with avid curiosity, waiting to see what she might do. She calmly flipped open her new textbook and began skimming the first chapter. No one but Aidan could see her close enough to know that her hands were shaking. The queasiness in her belly didn't go away.

It was true, that she'd heard wonderful things about this teacher, that she'd been looking forward to his class. She'd honestly forgotten the identity of her father's killer, and even had she remembered, she wasn't sure she would have made the connection right away. But . . . she'd come here to become a Weasley. To find out more about her Papa and become more like him. What would he think of her taking a class from the man whose father had killed him? Maggie couldn't help but think he'd be furious. But she had to have this class, there was no alternative way to get her OWLs and NEWTs someday. What was she to do?

* * *

"Hey, Maggie."

She looked up from her homework to see Matt sinking down on the big rug beside her. Deborah was with Chloe and Kaye doing who knew what, and she had no idea where Aidan was, so she was working on her own.

"Oh, hi, Matt," she said, curling her legs under herself to make room for him.

"Are you settling in okay?"

"Oh, yes, thank you. I think I'm going to like being in Gryffindor," she smiled.

He smiled back. "That's good. Listen, though, I wanted to talk to you about something . . ."

Maggie frowned. "What is it?"

"Professor Malfoy."

"Oh."

"No, Maggie, listen. I heard that you've been very cold toward him, and I don't think you're being fair."

"His father—" she began hotly, but Matt looked at her sharply.

"I know. Lucius Malfoy killed your dad. Did you know that Professor Malfoy himself killed mine?"

"Oh!" Maggie cried out. She had, in fact, known that, and had forgotten. She covered her hand with her mouth. "Oh, Matt, is it terrible for you?"

Matt frowned at her. "No. Professor Malfoy isn't that kind of person anymore. He's a very good man. You need to be a lot more respectful toward him. He isn't even the one who killed your father, so he doesn't deserve to be punished by you."

Maggie bit her lip.

"I get along with him just fine, and you would, too, if you gave him the chance. He's your Head of House, after all."

Maggie knew she was going to cry, and it made her mad. She hated to cry, and so she turned her face down. "I just thought my father wouldn't want me to—"

"You could never judge that properly. Your father never even knew the professor the way he is now. If you want, you could talk to my mother about it. She didn't like him at first."

Maggie wiped her cheeks with her palm. "I want to talk to my mother, I think. Mama always knows what to say."

Matt smiled, and patted her arm. "You''re going to do great here, Maggie. Don't worry. You come talk to me if you need anything, all right?"

She nodded and sniffled and went back to her studying. The sick feeling in her stomach was starting to fade, but she still felt a heavy weight about it. She didn't know how she would bring it up to Mama.

* * *

"Right, now everyone roll into a nice, easy right turn, toward the Astronomy tower!"

"Yes, Miss Dewberry!" a few of them shouted as they all turned smoothly in the indicated direction.

"Whoops!" Kaye shouted as she turned too sharply and started to slip off her broom. A flash of light enveloped her and she was quickly righted through no effort of her own.

Maggie glanced down to see Uncle Harry holding his wand at the ready in case anyone else started to fall. Miss Dewberry wanted them to fly as high as they could. She said she wanted to break them of any fear of heights good and early. Maggie wasn't sure Uncle Harry really approved of the idea, but he was really supportive of their teacher nonetheless. Maggie wanted to talk to her after class and see what she was like, since she had introduced herself as a former Quidditch player.

Maggie cut through her next move with a little more drama than necessary, made the turn a little extra sharp. She glanced down to see if Miss Dewberry had noticed.

"You, with the red hair!"

Uncle Harry leaned over and murmured to her.

"Maggie girl!"

Maggie looked down with a proud grin. "Yes, Miss Dewberry."

"Stop showing off and do what I tell you."

Maggie's smile fell, and she returned herself to the formation that had been set up between the students. "Yes, miss," she said, subdued.

Well, served her right. That wasn't any way to catch a teacher's attention or get them to like you. She would just have to be the most obedient student and do all the things Miss Dewberry asked perfectly rather than with any flair.

At the end of the lesson, when they landed on the ground and were filing toward the equipment shed to put the brooms away, Maggie looked hopefully at her teacher, who was walking her way.

"Nice job, Maggie, you have a lot of natural talent," she said, clapping her hand a little bit too hard on Maggie's shoulder and making her wince.

"Your dad would be proud," Uncle Harry added before he started directing the students where to hang up the brooms.

Maggie allowed that to sink in, feeling a warm place spread out inside her, before she turned back toward the teacher.

"Miss Dewberry, how long did you play for the Harpies?"

"Five years."

"You must have loved it so much," Maggie sighed.

Miss Dewberry smiled, her vibrant lips standing out against her pale skin. "Yes, I did. I miss it. But," she said perkily, "I like doing this, too. I'm happy enough."

Maggie felt a little sad for the woman, but was glad that she was able to find some joy in her work.

"I liked the lesson, I think you're a good teacher."

"And you're a good student," Miss Dewberry replied, ruffling Maggie's hair. Maggie sighed with long-suffering. Just because it was a frizzy mass of curly red confusion was no reason to make it worse, but people were always doing that to her hair. Miss Dewberry saw it and laughed. "Sorry, Maggie. You've got such wonderful hair, though."

"Wonderful? It's rotten."

Miss Dewberry made a pouting face. "Do you think my hair is rotten?"

"No, it's beautiful," Maggie said with envy, eyeing the mass of glorious blond curls that hung all the way down her back.

"Mine looked just like yours when I was your age."

"It did?"

"It'll settle down after a bit. Of course, you'll have to take special care of it, if you're going to be a Quidditch player someday. All that wind and rain will be murder on you. Anyway, just give it a few years to even out, and when you're old enough for that kind of thing, you can start trying some straightening products and frizz-tamers."

Maggie grinned. "Maybe when I'm older, I'll get some advice from you about that."

"You'd be welcome to," Miss Dewberry answered, then strode past her to bark out some instructions to the other students.

Aidan walked over to her, and Maggie still couldn't help but hide a smile, no matter how much time she spent around him. His skinny, stick-like limbs made him look like a spider when he walked. He looked a bit shaken, though.

"What's wrong, Aidan?"

"I don't think I like flying," he confessed.

"Why not?" Maggie asked, horrified. "Flying is so much fun!"

"It's too windy."

"Windy?"

"Yeah. I'm cold."

Maggie giggled and put her arm around him. "Come on, I'll take you back to the castle, you poor little invalid."

Aidan stiffened in her embrace.

"Aidan?"

"I'm not an invalid."

"I know that. I was just poking fun. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I was only joking."

"Joking?"

Aidan looked lost.

"Oh, dear," Maggie sighed. "I'll explain to you later. It just means I like you. You're my friend."

"Oh, okay," he said agreeably, and suddenly was all smiles. "I never had a friend before. Thanks, Maggie."

* * *

_Dear Mama,_

_I love Hogwarts! It's my favourite place in the world!_

_I thought I should get that out of the way before I start the regular letter-writing things like asking how you are and telling you how I am. I do miss you, but I love school and I'm making friends, so I'm happy. I'm not a bit homesick, really, but I do wish you were here. I miss talking to you whenever I want. I have so much to talk about, I don't know where to start._

Maggie paused there, and started chewing on her pen. She wanted to tell her all about her friends, her flying, her classes . . . but she would have to bring up Papa so many times to do so. Just because he was the foremost thing on her mind didn't mean that Mama wanted to be reminded of him all the time.

_I think I'm going to enjoy my classes. I remember you telling me about how boring History of Magic could be sometimes with Professor Binns (yes, he's still here) but I don't mind it so much. He's so orderly, it's easy to take my notes! And I love having Uncle Remus as my professor, he's very good. I like his class a lot. We're learning the most basic things this year, of course, since some students are Muggle-born and don't know, but next year it should start being more exciting. I also think I like my Potions class. Potions are almost like cooking, and Professor Malfoy says that once you understand the theory, you can be as creative as you like. He watches us first-years like a hawk, but his seventh-year class has experimentation days._

Maggie paused again. Should she ask her mother about Professor Malfoy, or should she take Matt's advice and let it go? She couldn't deny that he was a good teacher and that he cared about the students. He didn't seem like a killer, or a Death Eater, or anything. Whenever she tried to imagine his past, the only thing she could think of was seeing him saying goodbye to his family at the train at the beginning of the year. Finally, she decided that she would give it more time before she said anything.

She described her friends, Deborah and Chloe and Aidan especially, and talked about what it was like to do homework together in the common room. She supposed her mother already knew about that, but she wanted Mama to know that she was content with it. She wasn't really content fully, because she'd hardly found anything at all about her father yet, but she didn't want to tell Mama that—at least not yet. She wanted to see what she could dig up once she found the time.

_Tell J.J. I miss him and love him, and that I want to hear all about how school is going this year. Tell Jonah—_

Maggie stopped. What would she say to Jonah? When she'd left, it had been without his approval or support. He'd been in her life since she was only a toddler, and she wasn't sure she'd been very fair to him. But the only thing she could think was that he wasn't her father and he hadn't the right to keep her from learning about the man that was. They'd grown so distant. That was her fault.

_—that I miss him, too_ (for it was true) _and that I'll see him at Christmas._

There. That was enough for now. Maggie closed the letter and forced Aidan to walk her to the Owlery to borrow a school owl. They took some time to choose a sturdy-looking owl that could make a long-distance trip. Aidan complained about the cold, and Maggie told him that he'd likely feel warmer if he'd eat enough to put some meat on his bones. She'd been nagging at him about that ever since their first meal together, because it honestly did concern her. But that was good, she thought. Having friends she cared about was a great thing to find in such a foreign place.


	5. Chapter 5: What Child is This?

_Thank you, ArticFire, for your review. I nearly choked to death laughing. I hope you're happy!_

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Chapter Five

What Child is This?

"You're always spending time in the library, honestly, Maggie," Deborah scolded.

Maggie shrugged and kept walking in her intended direction. "I'm doing research, what's wrong with that?"

"You hardly ever do anything else."

"That's not true."

"What else do you do, then?

"I do homework with you, and I go flying with Aidan so he learns to like it, and we're always gossiping with Chloe and Kaye and Marissa and Iseult between classes and in the dorm room."

Deborah frowned. "Fine. But you've still been skipping dinner to go to the library."

"It's the only time I have to do it."

"Aidan never eats unless you make him, you know."

Maggie stopped in guilty surprise. "He doesn't eat dinner when I'm not there?"

"Only sometimes. But that's not really the point. I'm just kind of worried, you seem a little obsessed about something."

"I'm just interested in some things I've been looking up, that's all."

"You know Frank still reckons you should have been in Ravenclaw?"

Maggie shrugged, but she could feel her cheeks heating up. "Maybe I should have, but I like Gryffindor and I think I wanted to be in it all along." She smiled at Deborah with a little bit of a lighter tone. "If I wasn't in Gryffindor, I wouldn't get to spend so much time with you."

"Ha," Deborah said dryly. "Your cousin spends practically all his time with a couple of the Ravenclaw students."

"Except when he's spending time with Bear Talbott," Maggie said with a little giggle. Deborah giggled, too. Everyone had noticed that their long-standing friendship seemed awfully _close_, lately.

Deborah left Maggie to go to dinner while Maggie continued on to the library, promising to try to make Aidan eat but making no guarantees about success. Maggie entered the library and went back to the section she'd been spending all her time in—recently published books on the war with a certain Lord Voldemort that had ended before she was born. She'd been finding out a huge number of things she hadn't known before, such as the fact that her mother had wanted to go with Uncle Harry to kill Voldemort and hadn't because she was pregnant with Maggie. Like the fact that Grandma Weasley had two brothers who'd been killed fighting just like her father and uncles had. One book even had an entire chapter on the contributions the Weasley family had made in the war. It made Maggie proud to be part of them. Her family had always been on the right side from the beginning.

She'd nearly exhausted the resources of the history books, and wasn't sure where to go next. Then she flipped a page and found a picture of her father and mother in the library with Uncle Harry, just children as young as she was. The caption said the picture had been taken from their second-year yearbook. Maggie's heart did a backflip. Yearbooks! Why hadn't she thought of that before? She nearly ran for the enormous length of shelves that held yearbooks since the inception of photography. It took her a minute to figure the years she needed, then took six gigantic books to the table all her research was spread out on. She knew her parents had never attended their seventh year, her mother had told her before.

She found the story of the Philosopher's Stone in the first book, and photographs of her father at such an awkward age that it made her laugh. There was a little snippet about the troll Papa and Uncle Harry had stopped during their Halloween banquet. There was a picture of her mother looking very mousy and bookish, and her hair was nearly as awful as Maggie's was now. She eagerly moved on to the second book and found out with horror that her Aunt Ginny had been kidnapped by a beast of some kind and nearly killed, and that it was Papa and Uncle Harry who'd rescued her. It was here that she found the picture of the three of them in the library that she'd seen in the history book.

The stories of the three of them in the third and fourth yearbooks were stories she was slightly more familiar with, since some of them had appeared in the history books and because she'd heard stories of the TriWizard Tournament straight from the lips of those who'd been there. She found a rather comical photo of the TriWizard champions posed and scowling at whoever was directing the picture. She had nearly forgotten that her Aunt Fleur had been one of them, and she studied the picture with interest, remembering that her mother had gone to a ball with the champion from Durmstrang. He looked sort of frightening, but he was a stockier and darker person, so maybe that _was_ what her mother liked in men. She found herself gazing at the other Hogwarts boy for a long time. It made her sad to know that when the photograph was taken, his death was only a few months away. He looked so handsome and brave, and it wasn't fair.

The fifth and sixth books contained photos of Papa and even Aunt Ginny on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Maggie spent a long time over those, enjoying the descriptions of their style of play in their relative positions, and going over the descriptions of the other players. Of course Uncle Harry was there, he'd been in the Quidditch photos in all the books. She hadn't known Mr. Thompson was on the team, but there he was in the sixth-year photos with Aunt Ginny and Papa. She even found a picture of Mama cheering for the team with some of the other Gryffindor students at one of the games. Her hair looked better, and it gave Maggie some hope. She studied the pictures of Mama and Papa wearing their prefect badges and ordering people around, and it made her feel a little less depressed. They were so cute together, even if they weren't dating yet.

Finally the librarian came over to Maggie and told her that she was locking up, and Maggie regretfully returned all the books to their shelves. The librarian had obviously noticed was Maggie was looking at, and wore a sympathetic look on her face as she helped her put the books away. She didn't say anything, though, and Maggie was grateful for that.

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Between the history books and yearbooks, Maggie had managed to piece together a great deal of her Papa's short life. Somehow, it didn't seem like enough. She had all the information, but it hardly told her anything about him. She didn't quite know what was missing, but she was sure she'd know it when she found it.

"Maggie, you even watching this game?" Fergus asked her, jostling her with his elbow.

Maggie looked up, startled, to see Ran Edwards making a spectacular save as Slytherin's best Chaser tried to score. No wonder everyone was cheering so loudly. She joined in the clapping, and shouted her approval of Ran. He was a really decent Quidditch player, for someone so big, she mused. Matt was zipping around the pitch like mad, and Kerry Wood and Berengaria Talbott were engaged in quite a fierce battle over the Bludgers with Fagan and Lillith Ward. Maggie had heard that some of the players had been on the team for four or five years already, and it showed. Both teams were full of good, strong players, who worked together with unnerving smoothness. Matt was the only new addition to the Gryffindor team, and he was very good and friends with most of the team already, so he fitted in absolutely seamlessly. Maggie even thought that Bear and Kerry could play professionally after school.

Maggie got into the game a little more as it continued with tight, fast-paced action. It was hopeless to try to say which team would win. They were both very good. Aidan and Fergus were on one side of her, Iseult and Deborah on the other. Some of the other Gryffindor boys were further down, but Chloe and Kaye had declared it was too cold and Quidditch wasn't that great anyway, and Marissa had elected to stay inside with them. _And they're behind on their homework and don't want to admit it,_ Maggie thought privately when they said it, and shared it with Deborah on their way down to the pitch. Chloe and Kaye were so prissy, sometimes, and she and Deborah liked to tease them about it.

She looked over at Aidan to see that his big eyes were following the game with fevered intensity, and he was clapping and cheering at all the appropriate moments, his breath clouding out around him in the cold air. She was surprised. She'd made him come to most of the matches, but he hardly seemed to watch them, and he never seemed to know when something good had happened.

"I didn't know you liked Quidditch so much now," Maggie said loudly when everyone was cheering for Victoria, their third-year Chaser who was the best one on the team since the Lucky Trio had graduated.

Aidan smiled at her, with his funny little lips-pressed-together smile. "I asked Professor Malfoy, and he told me about it."

"I told you about it," she huffed.

"But he explains it better. I think I understand it now. Anyway, Professor Malfoy is a lot nicer than you."  
"Oh, thanks a lot," Maggie gasped.

Aidan shrugged. "Well, he's more patient, anyway. But it's okay, you're still my friend. Professor Malfoy is a grownup."

Maggie laughed at that, and they spent another half an hour watching the game until Matt narrowly beat the Slytherin Seeker to the Golden Snitch, and ended the game with Gryffindor a mere seventy points ahead. Then something happened. When all the players landed and rushed toward Matt to pound on his shoulders and celebrate, Bear Talbott shoved her way through the other players and threw herself at him, and somehow, instead of hugging him, it ended up with her hands on his shoulders and their lips pressed together. Everyone shouted and laughed, even Maggie up in the stands, and when they scrambled away from one another in shock, Ran grabbed Matt and shoved him back toward Bear again for another kiss. Maggie laughed and hooted, and wondered whether Matt or Professor Malfoy would end up being the one to tell Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny about this. She kind of felt bad for them that their first kiss was in front of most of the school, but then everyone had assumed it would happen soon enough anyway.

"They're so cute, aren't they?" Maggie said to Deborah as they started trekking back up to the castle. Deborah cooed over it, too, with Iseult giggling at her side, and Aidan followed after them with a puzzled look.

"Why would you want to kiss anyone, anyway?" he asked, looking mystified. "Wouldn't it be all wet?"

All three girls developed a fit of the giggles. Aidan looked dejected and pushed his hands into his pockets, and Maggie noticed that with his heavy cloak and scarf, he didn't seem so thin. Fergus was coming along, too, and he clapped his hand on Aidan's shoulder.

"I'm with you, mate," he said, looking just as puzzled and shooting suspicious looks at the girls. "I mean, maybe if you could get them to stop laughing for a minute, but . . ."

"It's better when you're older," someone said from behind them all, and they turned to see Ran Edwards jogging to get out of the cold. He'd already changed out of his Quidditch robes.

"Who've you kissed, then?" Maggie asked with interest.

"None of your business, you cheeky little thing," he answered with a grin.

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"Uncle Remus?"

The gray-haired man looked up from the papers he was grading to see his fiery-haired favourite student standing in the doorway of his classroom. "Hello, Maggie, come on in."

Maggie entered with hesitation.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, seeing her mood.

"Can I ask you about something?"

"Of course you can," he said gently, beckoning her forward. He levitated a chair to his desk so she could sit by him. "What is it?"

"I want to ask what you know about my Papa," she said in a near whisper.

Uncle Remus looked sympathetic, and he squeezed her hand briefly. "Not as much as some of the others you might ask."

"I know," Maggie sighed. "But everyone else is still so sad about it, I feel bad about asking them. Mama never wants to talk about him, and Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny only talk about him when they're in a really good mood. I've been doing research," she said proudly, "and I found out lots of stuff, but nothing . . . real. It's all just photographs and stories. It's not about _him_, only what he did. Does that make sense?"

Uncle Remus nodded soberly. "It makes sense, but I'm not sure I can help you, Maggie. It seems to me that what you're looking for is something that doesn't exist. There isn't any magic that can bring Ron back, and I don't think you'd truly be satisfied unless you got that. The stories . . ." he smiled sadly, and pulled her into his arms to soften the blow. "They're all that's left of him, now. That's all we can give you. I don't think you're going to find what you're looking for, Maggie."

"I was afraid you would say that," she whispered tremulously, and tried not to cry all over him. She had thought she was going to get this at some point, hit a wall that couldn't be broken through.

"I think it's time to put that aside, at least a little bit, and focus on what you have in front of you. You're at a very good school, you've got some nice friends, and there are a lot of people in your life who care about you. You know we love you, don't you? Dora and I, and all of your very large family. Your mother and your stepfather most especially."

Maggie nodded. "Yes, I know."

"Can you be happy to have all of us?"

She nodded again, her throat so thick with tears that she could hardly breathe. "I just wish I . . ." she trailed off. She still wasn't sure what was missing, what she needed. Maybe Uncle Remus was right. Maybe she was still looking for some spell or potion that would bring Papa back to life for her. It was wrong to hope for something like that, she knew it was.

"Let's put some of your researching energy into your classes, then, all right?" Uncle Remus said, slowly releasing her from his embrace. "We both know you haven't been keeping up in your classes very well, and your mother will not be pleased to hear that."

Maggie looked down shamefacedly. "I know. I promise I'll do better. I'll have perfect grades by the end of the term."

"That's not far off, now," he warned.

"I know. But I will," she said with conviction. She could be a good student whenever she wanted, and she could get any grade she wanted. She was Mama's daughter, after all.

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Maggie was studying intently for a short quiz they were going to have in astronomy tomorrow, curled up in a corner of the common room near the fire. The nights were getting very cold, and the fireplace had become quite a popular spot. Sitting together on a rug in front of the fire were Matt and Bear and Letty Burns and Ferris Forsythe, Gryffindor's two most adorable couples, both playing with one another's hair and fingers as much as studying.

She caught Matt's eye and smiled at him, happy for him. His face became serious, and he stood up, excusing himself from his friends for a moment. He walked over to her, and she felt a sense of dread. Matt's serious looks usually heralded talk of emotions and small reprimands. She wondered what she'd done.

"How are you, Maggie?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

She gestured to her charts. "Behind," she sighed.

Matt smiled a little. "Letty's pretty good with astronomy. She might help you, if you asked."

"I can do it," Maggie shrugged. "I haven't been studying enough, is all."

Matt's face sobered again. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I already talked to Uncle Remus," she said with a frown. "I know."

"Well, sort of. I know you've been in the library a lot to find stuff about your dad. It's not a bad thing, but . . . well, what I wanted to talk to you about is your stepfather."

"What about him?" Maggie said peevishly.

Matt frowned at her. "You never even talk about him, Maggie. I've met Jonah. He's a good person, and he's been your stepfather since you were very small. I thought you and Jonah loved each other."

Maggie abruptly was fighting tears. "I do. I do love him. But he's not my Papa!"

"Nobody said he was," Matt said calmly, his eyes disapproving of the outburst. "That doesn't mean he isn't your dad, who loves you and takes care of you as if he was."

Maggie sniffed and glared at him. "It's not your business."

"Maybe not," Matt replied, never ruffled. "But I know how it feels, don't I? My father died when I was young, and I was taken in by another man."

Maggie sniffed again and bit her lip. That was true. Uncle Harry wasn't Matt's real dad.

"I don't even have my real mother, like you do. Listen, Maggie, he might not be your real father, but your mother loves Jonah and wanted you to be a family with him. It's not fair of you to push him away when he's been so good to you. Do you think it would be right of me to stop talking to my dad and avoid him and spend all my time thinking about my biological father? After everything he's done for me?"

Maggie shook her head, and tears splashed onto her charts. "No," she whispered, but she wasn't sure Matt had even heard her. She looked up at him and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Please go away, Matt. I can't . . . I have to study right now."

Matt graciously left her alone, hoping the tears meant he'd gotten through somehow. Maggie watched him go back to his friends, watched Ran stop him and speak to him in a low voice, and then glance her way. She coloured, angry and embarrassed that they were talking about her. Ran came over toward her, his face gentle.

"Matt's right, you know," he said quietly, but she shot a glare up at him.

"Leave me alone, can't you see I'm busy?"

He turned away and Maggie curled up around her astronomy charts in utter misery. Guilt was piling on guilt, and she didn't know how to get out of the trap.


	6. Chapter 6: Christmas at Number Twelve

Chapter Six

Christmas at Number Twelve

"Oh, Bill, you're here!" his baby sister cried out, throwing her arms around him. "It's been forever!"

"I know!" he replied enthusiastically, returning her hug tightly.

Maggie, sitting on the polished wooden bench under the window, watched her family members pouring into her aunt and uncle's house from the drawing room fireplace. First Uncle Bill stepped through, then Rose, then Georges, then Aunt Fleur brought up the rear. When the blonde stepped through, ash and soot doing nothing to her willowy perfection, she immediately dropped a kiss on each of Aunt Ginny's cheeks, greeting her with a throaty purring of happiness.

"The kids are getting so big," Aunt Ginny said, smiling at her niece and nephew, who returned her smile and exchanged embraces with her politely. Aunt Fleur beamed like it was all her doing that her children had managed to age properly. Maggie thought Aunt Fleur was a bit funny like that.

Still, it would be rude to ignore them or pretend she herself wasn't here, so Maggie stood up to greet everyone.

"_Bonjour_, Maggie," Rose sang out in her tittering little voice.

"_Bienvenue_," Maggie replied demurely, and smiled at Georges, who grinned back and hugged her warmly. Georges was just as overtly French as his sister and mother, but he'd attained some measure of the sheer attitude and style of his father (who despite having cut his hair short years ago maintained an aura of being dashing and debonair). Georges was sort of cool.

"Maggie, wait until you _hear_," Rose said in her perfect and strongly accented English.

"Hear what?"

"Father says I can get an earring soon, like his," Georges said, his teeth gleaming. It made Maggie blink in a way Frank Anders never would. Thank Merlin they were family or she'd be in trouble. "He says it will make _Grandmére_ have a heart condition."

"Heart attack," Rose corrected.

Georges scowled, and Maggie nervously wondered if people who were only part-Veela could turn into those screeching bird creatures she'd heard about from Mama. Of course, Mama had never said whether or not Aunt Fleur could do it.

"Don't worry about it," she said cheerfully. "Come into the kitchen, Uncle Harry is helping us decorate cupcakes."

"Cupcakes?" Rose asked blankly. "For Christmas?"

"Crash and J.J. like them," Maggie explained, rolling her eyes. She started to lead them off to the kitchen, but Uncle Bill caught her up in a big hug.

"Where do you think you're going without saying hello?" he boomed. Maggie squirmed so she could turn and give him a squeeze. She giggled to see his eyes crossed and his forehead furrowed in false confusion. It was an awfully _big_ forehead, now that he was losing so much hair, Maggie noticed. He'd be as bald as Grandpa Weasley soon enough. Of course, he still kept his ear pierced, so he didn't seem that old.

Aunt Fleur wanted to say hello, too, so Maggie suffered through trading kisses. "_Joyeux Noël_, Aunt," she said when prompted by the woman's French greeting.

"Where's your family, Maggie?" Uncle Bill asked her.

"Not here yet," she answered quickly, then grabbed Georges and Fleur by their hands and escaped to the kitchen where Uncle Harry, Charley, and Sirius were at work. She couldn't talk about her family. Mama and J.J. and Jonah would be here soon, and Maggie didn't know what to do. What would she say? What _could_ she say to Jonah?

Maggie had been fretting for weeks. She was sure that things would be better between Mama and Jonah now that she wasn't there, but she was sure that Jonah would have realized that it was her fault they'd been fighting. He would be mad at her. He'd be mad at her for running away to England, too. He'd wanted her to stay home and go to school in Canada, she knew. He didn't like having her so far away when she was only a little girl. He didn't think it was right. And Maggie simply disagreed. She couldn't tell him. She didn't know why she couldn't. He was just wrong. She was right where she belonged.

It was an hour later—when the salvageable cupcakes were being put aside and Aunt Ginny was throwing out the ones with blood all over them while Uncle Harry fixed Crash's nose—that a whoosh in the drawing room announced another arrival. Maggie wanted to hope it was Uncle Remus and Aunt Tonks, but they were only coming for dinner later so it wasn't them. It was her family. They were here.

It wasn't like Maggie to freeze up, and she didn't, but she couldn't stop tidying. She wiped the same spot with a damp cloth over and over, trying to find a bit of frosting or a sprinkle she'd missed. She didn't look up from her hand and the dirty cloth, trying to look fully engrossed in her task. But Charley grabbed her hand and squealed that it was Jean-Luc and they had to go say hello. Maggie dragged her feet and felt her stomach grow sicker and sicker as she came into the room where they were brushing off their clothes and greeting everyone.

She stopped. There they were. They turned and saw her, and smiles broke out on their faces, and there was her mother. Suddenly Maggie didn't feel a thing except pure delight, and she didn't think her feet touched the ground between the doorway and her mother's arms. She was swept up in the most amazing hug she had ever received, and she thought she might be crying. She'd missed Mama so, so much. She tried to tell Mama so, but her voice sounded small and scratchy, and Mama was hugging her so hard that Maggie couldn't breathe. And Maggie couldn't let go, even when Mama let her go. She didn't want to face Jonah, and she didn't have to so long as she held onto her mother. So when Hermione straightened up, Maggie kept her arms around her waist and clung.

"It's okay," Mama said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," Maggie replied. "I just want to hold you."

Jonah put his hand in her hair, and Maggie stiffened. She didn't mean to be so obvious about it, but she couldn't help it. Did he hate her?

"You must be homesick, Maggie," he said. "You're not sorry you came to Hogwarts, are you?"

"No," she said viciously, her face still resting against Mama's side.

"Good," Jonah said, and stroked her hair gently. "I'm glad you like your school, then."

Stunned, Maggie didn't respond. It was ten minutes before she was ready to let her mother go and show J.J. the cupcakes they'd ben able to save from Crash's bloody nose.

* * *

"Knock, knock," a voice said through the half-open door. Jonah poked his head in, Hermione's head right behind it. "Maggie?"

"Come in," she said dully.

"Are Charley or Rose in here?"

"No, they're downstairs."

Maggie didn't mind sharing a room for a few days with her cousins, but it did get a little noisy. She could only imagine how Matt must feel sharing with Crash, Jean-Luc, and Georges, so that the married couples could have their own rooms. She was surprised he hadn't ended up at Basil Townsend's for the whole holiday break.

"We want to give you your Christmas gift now," Jonah said, holding a wrapped package out like a peace offering. It made Maggie's guilt treble, to see him looking so hopeful and vulnerable.

"But it's not Christmas until tomorrow," she pointed out, scooting over on the bed so they could sit.

"It's something we thought you might like to open while no one was watching you," Mama said, patting her knee.

Maggie frowned. "I already got my broom . . ."

"It's not like a broom, that was a present for starting school," Mama said, then she looked at Jonah.

Jonah handed the package over carefully. It felt like a book of some kind, and Maggie wasn't sure why she shouldn't open it tomorrow when everyone else was exchanging their gifts.

"It's something we worked on together for a while, your mother and I," he said, sounding almost . . .shy. Maggie got even more confused.

"Just open it," Mama said impatiently, and watched with her hands tightly holding the edge of the bed while Maggie unwrapped it obediently.

It was a photo album. It had a rich dark red leather cover, and Maggie suddenly felt afraid to open it. She didn't want to know what was in it. She didn't want to know what Jonah had worked on so hard for her. But her hands moved of their own accord, and suddenly she was looking at a picture of a very small boy with red-blond hair frowning in concentration as he patted the nearly bald head of a baby—and an identical small boy sat on the other side with a similar frown, doing the same thing. _Fred and George welcome their new brother home_, was written there in her mother's perpetually excellent handwriting.

The next picture was of a small boy with red hair holding hands with an even smaller girl while they threw rocks at a gnome in a muddy garden. Maggie knew what she was looking at, now, but she still read the caption, this time in Jonah's neat, square printing. _Ron and Ginny help with the chores_.

She turned the page. Ron on his sixth birthday. Fred and George holding Ron upside down over a big mud puddle while he kicked and squealed. Charlie giving Ron a piggyback ride that was particularly bouncy. Ron and Ginny sitting on one side of a chess board, Percy on the other, all three scowling at each other petulantly and not moving.

One picture nearly made her choke. Her father stood there with robes tucked under his arm, the cage containing his pet rat under the other arm, in front of the Hogwarts Express, striking a pose of pride. _Ron's off to school!_ He had dirt on his nose, Maggie noticed. Her mother's hand was suddenly touching the page, touching his dirty nose, trying to wipe away the smudge. Maggie looked up to see that Mama was crying, with no noise, just a few tears running down her face.

"Mama?"

"I'm all right, baby."

Maggie looked through more of the album. She started finding pictures she'd seen before in the yearbooks, but she found more that would never make it into a yearbook. Ron asleep with his mouth hanging open and snoring, his half-naked form only half-covered by a blanket, a Bulgarian flag clutched in one fist. _Getting some beauty rest before the Quidditch World Cup_. _Ron and Harry in the common room. Ron, Harry, and Hermione at a D.A. meeting. Ron in the hospital wing at Hogwarts . . . again._

Here was the photo she'd always had, had clung to her whole life. _Ron and Hermione dancing at Bill's wedding._ And more. _Ron and Hermione at Ginny's birthday party. Ron and Hermione at Grimmauld Place_.

Maggie looked up at Jonah to see what he thought of these cozy, cuddling, kissing pictures. He had put his hand on Mama's shoulder and was gently squeezing it and rubbing his other hand over her back. She didn't look upset or anything. But her face was like a mask, it was so expressionless. Still, it was Jonah she wondered about. What could he be thinking? And more importantly, why would he give this to her?

"Thank you," she began slowly. "This is . . . very nice."

"You really like it, Maggie?" Jonah asked softly.

She looked at him and nodded, running her hand over the gift, a lump in her throat. She wondered if he could tell she was going to cry.

He let go of Mama and got off the bed so he could kneel in front of her. "I'm not your father, and I'm sorry I can't be," he said. "I wish I could be what you need me to be, but I would never want to take who you are away from you. I just wanted to give you what I could to help you know what that was."

Maggie trembled. "But you hate me. You have to. I was mean."

"It's okay, Maggie. I understand."

Feeling tears leaking out and sliding down her face, Maggie shook her head cautiously. "But I . . . I made you and Mama fight, and Matt says I shouldn't hold onto someone who's dead the way I should hold onto you—"

"Maggie?"

She stopped.

"Do you like the gift?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Then it's okay."

Maggie threw her arms around Jonah and sobbed until she ran out of tears.

* * *

After Jonah and Mama had gone to let her look at her book of photographs, she had only a minute's peace before there came a knock on the door. She looked up expecting to see one or both of them again. It was Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. They were smiling, but sadly.

"Hermione and Jonah told us what they gave you for Christmas."

Maggie closed the book and held it to her chest, running a hand over the smooth leather. "Yes."

"They said you were ready for what we had to show you."

Maggie was puzzled, but obediently followed them, wondering what it was she hadn't seen yet in this house she'd spent so much time in. When they took her to the only door in the house that had ever stayed locked, her heart began to beat faster. She knew that a tapestry hung in here that couldn't be removed, a tapestry of the Black family that Harry had inherited the house from. But she'd always known there was something else in this room.

"We put it in this room when all you kids were little, and we said we'd show it to each of you when you were ready to see it," Uncle Harry said. He put the key in the door, and Aunt Ginny put her hand on Maggie's back. She guided her into the room, Maggie holding her breath without knowing that her aunt was doing the same.

It was . . . a shrine, Maggie realized. A photo, and a broken wand, and a letter under glass. Some trash that she recognized as packaging for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. A shrine to her father and her fallen uncles. She didn't even notice when Harry and Ginny left the room, so focused was she on the letter. The letter in her mother's neat writing, and signed by the three young men. She read it, hardly breathing, and seemed to feel them with her for a moment. It was like, through their words, that they gathered around her, even though they were no ghosts.

She screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and whirled around with her wand in her hand to see that it was her mother. Mama held very still for a moment, then gently took her wrist and plucked the wand from her frozen hand. Maggie huffed out a breath and crossed her arms.

"Mama!"

"I'm sorry I scared you."

"I didn't know this was here."

"You weren't supposed to. We all decided that none of the babies were meant to see it, and we ought to wait until you were older. And . . . we thought it was time. To put it out of the way, where we only saw it if we really needed to. Arthur and Molly didn't want it in their house at all, and Harry and Ginny knew I'd never put it away if it was mine, so it's here. Whenever we need it." Mama stretched out a hand and ran her finger through the dust on the glass. "We haven't needed it much, the last few years. But maybe you do."

When she turned back to Maggie, there were tears in her eyes again. Maggie was startled. She never saw her mother cry, but it seemed like she'd been crying all day. It was a bit frightening.

"Mama, what is it?"

"Oh, Maggie," she whispered thickly. "I've been so wrong, to treat your father the way I have."

"You mean Jonah?"

"No, I mean your father. I've acted like he was perfect. I put him up on a pedastal and brought him down for you on special occasions. That was wrong. You've never wanted to know Ron that way, you just wanted to know him as a person. I wanted to remember him as a hero and . . . I loved him very much, you know. And ever since Jonah and I started working on that present for you, I've been reminded over and over again how very human Ron was. And how very human I am."

Maggie was only getting more confused, and Mama wasn't getting any happier. Something was wrong.

"I guess it's made me realize what it was I loved about him, and the fact that I married Jonah because I thought I needed someone who was his complete opposite. But what I really needed was time to sort myself out. I got married to the first person I could find to take me. And I do love Jonah, and Jonah loves me, but it's not what either of us wanted."

"No, Mama," Maggie whispered, feeling herself shaking, feeling hot tears building up in her eyes, feeling heat building up everywhere inside her. "Don't."

"I want to go to America to work, and Jonah doesn't, and the longer we stay together the worse we feel about it, so we—"

"Don't say it!" she shrieked. "It's Christmas, you can't say it!"

And she flew out of the room, the forbidden room with the locked door where everything awful was kept out of sight until you thought you wanted it, and she ran to the stairs and smacked into

"Jonah!"

"Maggie!"

He caught her before she could fall and held onto her tightly.

"She told you?"

Maggie tore herself loose. "It's my fault!" she nearly screamed. "I shouldn't have been born and I'm sorry! I'm leaving, I'll go back to Hogwarts, I just—"

"Maggie." Jonah's renewed grip on her was so strong it almost hurt, but Maggie was beyond tears now. "No. No, it's not your fault." He yanked her into his arms and held her tightly when she started shaking her head. "Never in a hundred years would we blame you. If anything, you kept us together. But don't even think that way. We don't need to have any kind of blame at all. Things just went very badly a long time ago, and everybody's still trying to catch up from that. Maggie, I don't care if I'm your dad, okay? I love you. And it's okay if you want to be here to go to school and be close to your family. Just don't forget that I love you, okay?"

"But you and Mama."

"It's been coming for a long time. We're not mad at each other, we don't hate each other, we even still like each other. But we're not the kind of people who should be married to each other. We've talked about it a lot. We still want to be friends with each other, as much as we can. There's still you and Jean-Luc to think about. Listen, Maggie, this isn't anything we're doing to ruin Christmas. Jean-Luc already knows, and we thought you should know when we were here to tell you ourselves. It doesn't need to be anything sad. It's going to be better for everybody. You'll see."

Maggie supposed she would have to, though she didn't know how. She didn't want them to get divorced. Even if they made a bad married couple, she didn't want that. And it was her fault, no matter what they said. If she hadn't been born, Mama would have been able to forget about Ron Weasley.


	7. Chapter 7: I Am Gryffindor's Daughter

Chapter Seven

I Am Gryffindor's Daughter

"I know!" Maggie laughed. "Matt, it was pathetic, and you know it!"

"Fine," Matt said, pretending to sulk. "It was a ridiculously easy match. But I reserve the right to bask in victory, anyway," he said, turning his faked attitude around with a grin.

"So you won single-handedly, did you?" Bear asked, sounding dangerous.

Matt smiled at her with a glint in his eye, but was interrupted by a hearty clap on the shoulder.

"When are you all going to admit that _I'm_ the only reason we ever win?" Ran asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Maggie rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side—doing her best to reach, of course. Ran just laughed and put his palm on her head (which held her back too far to reach him) to keep her at bay.

"Careful, little one," he said.

Maggie ducked abruptly and shot under his arm to give him a solid punch in the gut.

"Oof!" he grunted in surprise. He took a step back, massaging his flat belly. "Maggie," he wheezed.

"_Don't_ call me that," she said.

They all looked at her there, the two fifth-years and the sixth-year, staring at the eleven-year-old girl with her red hair and her eyes spitting sparks and a temper that was liable to catch her on fire any instant. Then they broke into laughter, and Ran dragged Maggie over with one arm to give her an affectionate hug.

"I won't, I promise," he chuckled.

Bear pulled her over and gave her a firm embrace, as well. "Good for you, trying to deflate his ego," she said loudly. "Although you aimed too high for that."

Maggie's shocked eyes went from Bear's mischievous to Ran's, but that was dangerous territory so she looked at Matt, her face heating up with embarrassment. Matt just winked at her.

"You'll get used to it," he promised. "Hogwarts offers the finest education for young witches and wizards anywhere, after all."

They joked with her using slightly less innuendo to make her feel better, then Matt admonished her to get moving and get her trunk packed.

"You know if Professor Malfoy finds any of _your_ things lying around, he'll just keep them to teach you a lesson."

"He wouldn't!"

"Who would put up a fuss about it? Aunt Hermione? My parents?"

"Not likely," Maggie muttered, and excused herself to finish packing.

Aidan was looking at her mournfully from the other side of the common room, so she stopped to say hello before heading up to her dorm.

"How come you're so cool?" he asked wistfully.

"I'm not," Maggie said in surprise.

"You get to joke around with the older students like it's nothing."

"Aidan Ross, are you _whining_ at me?"

"No," he said, sounding puzzled. "I was just talking."

"Oh, well never mind, then," she said blithely. She was used to Aidan's spells of confusion about how to carry on a proper conversation, and she actually really loved him for it. She smiled at him happily. "We were just talking about how exciting it is, that's all. Winning that last Quidditch game, and getting the House Cup this year."

Aidan smiled back, revealing possibly the most important step forward he'd made this year. He smiled with his teeth. They were, as he'd always complained, dazzlingly white and straight, and he was getting a little more confident about showing them off. He'd gained some weight this year, too. He didn't look so much like a spider anymore.

"It _was_ exciting, the way your cousin caught the Golden Snitch right in front of Slytherin's goal hoops."

"If their Keeper had been paying the _slightest_ bit of attention," Maggie said, shaking her head impatiently. She wondered if she'd like to be a Keeper, sometime.

"Aw, Pope did okay. He was just distracted."

"By _Bear_," Maggie emphasized. "I'm surprised Matt didn't knock his off his broom before he caught the Snitch."

Aidan looked a bit puzzled by that, but Maggie wasn't entirely sure that Aidan had yet figured out the dynamics of a romantic relationship between a boy and a girl.

"Maggie, pack!" Ran called out from across the room. "Or I'll get my dad to make you!"

She stuck out her tongue at him, a gesture he returned, and she told Aidan she'd see him on the train.

There were times it _was_ a bit inconvenient to have her Head of House so closely attached to her family, she thought as she headed upstairs to her the girl's half of the Tower. Her single detention so far had netted her a letter from home long before they ought to have received any news about it. Besides, breaking into the Headmistress's office had only been a dare, she wasn't going to _damage_ anything.

Professor Malfoy was really fair, all told, Maggie had to concede as she folded her robes. Fair and a lot of fun, too. And always willing to talk. He'd spent all that time with Aidan this year, and he'd even sat up with her a few nights to help her get caught up in her classes after her disastrous first term, never complaining that she was keeping him from getting home to his family for the evening. A good man, just like Matt had told her back when her year at Hogwarts had just started. She'd never had any reason to hold a grudge for what had happened before she was born.

She ought to have gone to see him a long time ago, she conceded. She ought to have talked to him months ago. And suddenly, the idea of having to wait until next term was unbearable. She flew from her dorm room, past all her surprised friends in the common room, and all the long way from Gryffindor Tower to the school's dungeons. She could only hope Professor Malfoy was in his classroom and not out and about somewhere. She skidded to a stop outside the Potions classroom and gasped for air. She leaned against the doorframe and simply breathed for a minute.

When she looked up, Professor Malfoy was looking right at her from his desk with a bemused expression.

"In a hurry?" he asked when she raised her head.

"I was hoping . . . you'd be down here."

She shuffled into the room at the professor's invitation and plunked herself down in the chair at his desk. He produced a glass of water, which she gulped thankfully while he waited with patience. When she finally settled, he just looked at her with a very serious expression.

"I wondered if you'd come to me."

"What do you mean?"

"You're here about your father, aren't you?"

Maggie blushed. She hadn't known she was that obvious.

"I've been doing better, though, haven't I?" she defended herself. "I haven't been spending all my time in the library, and I don't get out my Christmas present every night or anything."

Professor Malfoy smiled gently. "I wasn't accusing you of anything. I think it's a wonderful thing that you can honour the dead so much. Most girls your age don't have any concept of what that means. You're very mature, in that regard."

Maggie blinked. "Oh."

He smiled again. "If you've been afraid I'll react scornfully, you're mistaken. Your father and I never got along, but I have no reason to make you feel guilty for wanting to know about him. He was a good man."

Maggie was a little stunned. What she knew of Draco Malfoy's history with Ron Weasley was fuzzy at best, and the only thing she knew for sure was that they'd fought from day one to the last day of Papa's life. The professor's behavior gave no indication of such bad blood, however. It was strange.

He seemed to read her mind. "I've been forced to change my mind about too many opinions I had as a younger man, to think I have any right to hang onto my earliest opinion of Ron Weasley."

"But you know why I want to talk to you, right?"

"I think so. Do you?"

Maggie nodded, not looking at him. "Everyone says Papa was a hero and a good friend, and they tell stories about all the wonderful things he did. But I don't know any of the bad things. I think he would be . . . more . . . more real, if I knew what he did wrong. If there were things he wasn't any good at. I don't want to think he was perfect."

"Like I said, Maggie, you're very mature for a girl your age."

She shrugged off the compliment, if that's what it was. "Can you tell me, sir? Can you tell me what Papa was _really_ like?"

"I'll try," the man said humbly, and his ugly face became grim. "It feels wrong to be talking about him this way, but I'll do my best."  
"Thank you, professor."

He didn't smile, or even acknowledge her. He seemed to be sinking back into his own mind, gathering his thoughts and memories together.

"There was a feud between our families, you know," he began slowly. "And family was the most important thing in the world, to both of us. It was only natural to carry the grudges our fathers had. It had to do mostly with pureblood pride, and all that rubbish. My family was pureblood, rich, and snobby. His was also pureblood, poor, and welcoming to newcomers, like Muggleborns—like your mother."

"So you looked down on him."

"Indeed. And I think he was a little envious of me, but only for the money. If I could live my childhood again, I'd much prefer his family to mine. Anyway, Ron wasn't . . . he wasn't that bright, to be honest, and I found it easy to pick on him. He followed Harry around and always let Harry take the lead. He was a friend, a sidekick—but a damned upright and loyal one. I only saw them apart once from the time they met until the day Ron was killed, and that didn't last long. And I think he was smarter than he really let on, but he was the follower to Harry's leader, and after that brief conflict in their friendship, he was content with that. I don't think he would have ever . . . Well, he wouldn't have done that much with his life, I don't think. He would have cheered your mother on for however far she wanted to go, and worked hard to support her his entire life. That was just the kind of person he was. Never anything spectacular, but as true and respectable as any man could be."

Maggie was choking on the tears clogging her up, but she tried to give the professor a wry smile through her tears. "You're supposed to tell me what was bad about him."

The man shrugged, making a helpless gesture. "I told you, I've had to change my mind about a lot of things. What I'm telling you about him are things I used to find contemptible about him. I thought he was stupid, that he couldn't think for himself, that he was a traitor to pureblooded wizards for being friends with Hermione . . . I used to call her 'Mudblood.' I thought he had no talent for anything. Merlin, Maggie, you have no idea what a horrible person I was back then. I couldn't even explain it to you now."

Maggie was dumbfounded. "But, sir! You would never! You're, you're such a nice man, I don't believe you could—"

"It was a lot of hard work and a lot of humility that made me the way I am now, I'm sorry to say. I know you won't believe me, but I still have a hard time hearing it suggested that I might be a decent person. In that, I suppose I'm a bit like your dad. He never had any self-confidence, either. He thought of himself the same way I used to, the way I was describing you. Ron didn't think he had any redeeming qualities whatsoever."

"But he fought Voldemort," Maggie said insistently. "He stood up against such dark wizards."

"Yes, he did. Ron was the very definition of bravery, Maggie. He went up against those people thinking he hadn't a prayer but determined to do anything he could for the sake of his loved ones. Every time he fought, he thought he'd lose, but he'd rather it was him dead than his sister or his girlfriend or his father. He was murdered by my father because he wanted to save Harry, not because he overestimated his skills in battle. He went there knowing he wouldn't come back. He just went knowing he wouldn't allow anyone else to walk away, either."

Maggie dropped her face into her hands and cried. "I don't like bravery," she sobbed. "It steals people's fathers away."

Professor Malfoy's hand was in her hair, trying to comfort her. "You're right. It has stolen away a good many fathers, over the years. But I don't believe you when you say you don't like it. I think you respect what your father did very much. If you didn't, you wouldn't be in Gryffindor House."

"But I'd rather have my Papa," she whispered. "I'd rather have him than be in Gryffindor."

His hand kept stroking through her hair. "You have someone who loves you and wants to be a father to you. And you also have an example of what an amazing, courageous friend looks like. You're a very lucky girl, Maggie."

"I don't feel lucky. I don't have my Papa, and now Jonah isn't even going to be my stepfather anymore."

"Why not?"

"They're getting divorced," she spat out.

"I know that," Professor Malfoy said serenely. "Did Jonah say he doesn't want to ever speak to you again?"

"No."

"Did he say he doesn't want to be your stepfather anymore?"

"No, but—"

"Then there's no reason to say that he isn't. I would bet he'd still like to have that role in your life. Have you asked him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm afraid to. I'm a bad Gryffindor, Professor. I shouldn't be afraid like this."

"Were you afraid to come to Hogwarts?"

"A little."

"Were you afraid to come talk to me?"

"Yes."

"But you did, didn't you? You found some courage, and you did those things."

"Yes, but—"

"Just because you haven't talked to Jonah yet doesn't mean you're not going to. It just means you haven't found the courage yet. Just because you're in Gryffindor doesn't mean you'll never be afraid of anything, Maggie. It doesn't even have to have anything to do with Gryffindor. Just because Gryffindor celebrates bravery doesn't mean people from other houses don't have any. The point is, bravery is about doing something in spite of your fear. And that's something I think you're very good at."

A huge bell tolled in the tower, and the echo carried all the way down to the dungeons. Maggie felt the slight tingle in her feet as the stones carried the vibrations from the tremendous clangor high above her.

"Oh, it's time to go to the train!" Maggie shrieked, jumping to her feet and dashing the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands. "I didn't finish packing!" She started to run, and screeched to a stop at the doorway. "Thank you, professor." He smiled. On impulse, she bounded back across the classroom and enveloped him in a fervent embrace. "Thank you so much!" she said, spinning back around and running for it. Her trunk! Oh, Mama would just kill her!

She met Matt and Ran and Bear climbing out of the portrait with their trunks. They saw her and gave her a round of disapproving frowns.

"You didn't finish packing."

"I'm sorry!" Maggie said. "I had to talk to Professor Malfoy, I—"

"Relax."

"We know."

They produced her trunk from the portrait hole, being pulled by Bear and pushed from behind by Aidan. He stuck his face through and said,

"I helped finish your packing, Maggie! Boy, you sure have a lot of stuff!"

Maggie laughed and held out her hands to help Aidan clamber out—his thin frame might be filling out, but he was still as awkward as a Blast-Ended Skrewt (oh, yes—Hagrid still kept a few, and everyone knew _not_ to ask his apprentice Shawn how he felt about that), so she didn't want him to fall. He wanted to look cool in front of the older students, the way he insisted she did. She grabbed him in a hug once he was through.

"Thank you, Aidan. That was so sweet of you."

He patted her back carefully and drew back to look at her. "You were crying," he said doubtfully. "You haven't done that in a while."

"Well, now's as good a time as any, then," she said cheerfully. "Come on, let's hurry to get to the train." She grabbed her trunk, watched Ran help Aidan get his through, then they all dashed wildly for the front, or as wildly as one could while dragging all of one's worldly possessions in a large box.

"I'm not even going to unpack this summer," Maggie said thoughtfully as they climbed into a carriage. "I already can't wait for our second year to start."

"Yeah, me either," Aidan said, flashing his white teeth. Thank goodness his face was filling out and his eyes weren't so buggy anymore, Maggie thought, or his face would just be overwhelming. "I want to watch Quidditch again."

"Maybe you should try out next year."

"Me?"

"Why not you?"

"Because I . . . well, because."

"Are you scared?" Maggie asked quietly.

He nodded, looking shamefaced.

"Me, too, a little," she confessed. "But I still want to try out."

"You go ahead, then," he muttered.

Maggie squeezed his hand. "We'll try out together. It'll be fun."

As the carriage began bouncing along the dirt road toward the train station, Maggie's mind wandered far from Aidan and Quidditch. She started writing a letter she knew could never be delivered.

_Dear Papa_, it began.

_My first year is over, and I already can't wait for the next one to begin! Now I know why you and Mama loved Hogwarts so much. I'm learning so many things, and only some of them are classroom things. Just today, I learned about being a real Gryffindor, like you were. Someday, I won't just be your daughter, I'll be a true daughter of Gryffindor House . . ._


	8. Epilogue: Daddy's Girl

Epilogue

Daddy's Girl

_Dear Jonah,_

_I hope my letter finds you well. I've missed talking to you since Christmas, but I've been so busy this last term studying for my NEWTs that I don't think I've spoken to my own dorm mates, either! I'm sure Jean-Luc can relate, since he's working on his preliminary exams for the university, already. How is he doing, do you know? He doesn't write often. Mama hasn't been writing much, either, being so busy, but I hear she and Mr. Cavanaugh are doing brilliantly. Of course, you're much closer, so I suppose you'd know that better than I would._

_Well, I know you want my news. Deborah and I are getting ready to move into the shop and take over for Dean and Lee, but we're staying with her family during the transition. We can still hardly believe we're graduates, now! The graduation ceremony was almost surreal, it seemed like it was happening to someone else. Aidan, of course, cried all over me and said he was afraid he'd never see me again—he has been __so__ annoying since I broke up with him! It's like he doesn't notice he's gorgeous and every girl in the school wants to date him. You were right, of course, about not assuming a good friendship translates into a good __relation__ship, and I know I should have listened to you sooner. I can almost hear you saying, "I told you so." But when have I ever been very good at taking advice? I'm sad to think that we won't be friends anymore, but I don't see how we can be, now. I guess that's one of the mistakes I will have to learn from, like Mama always told me._

_By now, I'm sure you're well aware that __I'm__ well aware what you're waiting for, and I'm drawing it out to tease you. Yes, I took your ever-so-cunning advice. I convinced the Malfoys to let me have a graduation celebration at the Manor, since Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny are visiting Charlie and his new wife (did you know, by the way, that his wife Angelina used to have a crush on his __brother__ when they were at Hogwarts together? Peculiar that she ended up with Charlie after her first husband died, at least I think so.) Anyway, it was a nice party, and practically the entirety of Gryffindor House stopped in at some time during the evening. Yes, including Ran. He's got his flat in London close to his Quidditch supply shop and doesn't live there now, but he came over to congratulate us._

_All right, all right, I'm done teasing you. I'll just tell you. And yes, Draco and Vianne knew __exactly__ why I wanted to be at their home, and they were extraordinarily helpful. Between the three of us, we convinced Ran to show me the garden out back that he put so much effort into when he was still living there. The man is incredibly thick, for such a smart person. I paid him the most extravagant compliments, batted my eyelashes until I thought they'd fall off, and nothing. Finally I gave up and just kissed him. He finally got it at that point, thankfully, or I'd have had to assault him to make my point! (In other words, he kissed back.) And yes, I know, it's all due to your advice that we're together now. You're such a good sport about these kinds of things, Jonah._

_Vianne, by the way, is already gushing about weddings and babies and all that, but I told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to get married right off the bat—unless Ran gives me a particularly good kiss and melts all my good intentions. Kidding! I'm kidding, I swear! I promised you I wouldn't get married before I was twenty-one, and I mean to keep my promise. Besides, my life is going to be very full for a while, learning to run my uncles' store and trying to invent some new inventory to keep it lively. Deborah ought to be a big help with that, she's so creative!_

_I've rambled long enough, haven't I? All you really wanted to know was if I was dating Ran now or not. And I am! But don't worry—I promise I'll be a good girl and do you proud and whatever else it is fathers want girls to promise. I already had to swear this to Draco with my hand on that photo album of Papa before he'd allow it. You can come visit me at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes anytime to see for yourself how respectable and responsible I am. No, really! I would love to see you. I might even try to cook you dinner, which ought to be an adventure. Well, I __am__ a Gryffindor, that's supposed to be what we're good at._

_Anyway, I love you, Jonah. Take care, and write me soon._

_Your girl,_

_Maggie_

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - __- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - __- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - __- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - __- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

Whoohoo, double post to finish off the story! Yes, I know, it was a really melodramatic piece about not much at all, but I wanted to write it, anyway. As soon as I started writing Maggie, I knew she and Ran were just meant for each other someday. Plus I wanted everyone to know that I really like Ron Weasley, even though I he's never actually been in my series, being dead and all. Anyway, I have one more one-shot that will completely close the Redemption series, a story that I think is a perfect and fitting ending to all this, so I hope you all read that one. I will likely post it sometime this week. A few weeks from now, I will begin posting the new series. I have now added in a little teaser on my profile page to get everybody excited! Check it out!

See you again soon,

Faren


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